


Taking Care of Business

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, M/M, horrible friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Rita sighed. “Turning 49 means that I will almost be fifty,” she said, and Olivia raised an eyebrow, frankly not expecting Rita to be one of those people who had difficulty turning 50. Rita caught the look on her face and laughed. “Oh, it's not about that, Lieutenant. It's—” She broke off and drained her martini. “Rafael and I have an arrangement.”“An arrangement,” Olivia repeated, beginning to think she might see where this was going.“Yes,” Rita said sourly. “If neither of us is married by the time we turn 50…”She trailed off and Olivia couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. “Then you’ll marry each other,” she said, almost delightedly.





	Taking Care of Business

**Author's Note:**

> For the Miscellaneous Characters Past/Present week of the SVU Character Appreciation Weeks. Because everyone deserves a little more Rita in their lives.
> 
> This is bordering on the absurd, but I'm ok with it. Much thanks to tobeconspicuous and AHumanFemale for their help.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

“Drinking alone, Lieutenant?” a voice asked over Olivia’s shoulder as she sat with a glass of cabernet at Forlini’s, and Olivia turned to see Rita Calhoun smiling at her.

Olivia just shrugged and took a sip of wine. “I don’t see your drinking companion,” she returned with just a slight raise of her eyebrow, and Rita’s smile widened.

“Touché.” She gestured at the bartender, who hurried to prepare her usual martini. “But in my case, I was stood up.”

“For a date?”

Rita shook her head as she accepted her martini from the bartender. “No, I was supposed to be meeting Rafael to discuss a case.” She made a face. “Not that I particularly want to see Rafael right now.”

Olivia gave Rita a look, intrigued despite herself. “Oh? Avoiding him?”

Rita scowled. “Something like that.”

For a moment, Olivia was tempted to just let the moment pass, to return to her glass of Cabernet and quiet night by herself, but something in Rita’s expression made her curious. “Want to pull up a seat and tell me about it?”

Rita looked at first surprised, then almost grudgingly grateful. “I suppose,” she sighed, settling onto the barstool next to Olivia’s. “But fair warning, it's a bit of a long story.”

“In that case, I’ll get another glass of wine,” Olivia said, more to the bartender than to Rita, who laughed lightly and took a sip from her own glass.

“So I turn 49 in a few days,” she said without preamble. “And because of that, I am avoiding Rafael.”

Olivia tried to connect the two and drew a blank. “Because he’ll...mock you for it?” she guessed.

Rita smirked. “Not if he knows what's good for him. His birthday is in three months, and my memory is much longer than that.”

“Then I'm afraid I'm missing something.”

Rita sighed. “Turning 49 means that I will almost be fifty,” she said, and Olivia raised an eyebrow, frankly not expecting Rita to be one of those people who had difficulty turning 50. Rita caught the look on her face and laughed. “Oh, it's not about that, Lieutenant. It's—” She broke off and drained her martini. “Rafael and I have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement,” Olivia repeated, beginning to think she might see where this was going.

“Yes,” Rita said sourly. “If neither of us is married by the time we turn 50…”

She trailed off and Olivia couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. “Then you’ll marry each other,” she said, almost delightedly.

Rita glared at her as she gestured toward the bartender for another martini. “We were 23 and in law school and had both just gone through bad breakups,” she said defensively. “Besides, 50 seems like one of those ages that you're never going to get to until suddenly it's there staring you in your face and you realize that you have a year to find someone or else you have to marry your best friend to whom you have never been attracted.”

“Well, a year is plenty of time,” Olivia reasoned, still smiling slightly at the thought of Rita and Barba’s arrangement. She couldn't think of two people _less_ suited for each other. “You could easily find someone in a year.”

Rita's expression turned shrewd. “I was thinking it might be easier to find someone for Rafael,” she said. “In fact, I was thinking you might be able to help me with that.”

Olivia raised both eyebrows. “Oh, really?” she said non-committally. “And why wouldn't it be easier to just find someone to marry yourself?”

"Because I've embraced spinsterhood," Rita said, taking a sip of her second martini. "There's no financial benefit to marriage at this point and besides, this way I can continue to sleep with rich, younger men and women with impunity."

Olivia raised her eyebrows at that but said nothing, just sipping from her own glass of wine. "And you can't just tell Rafael that?"

"And admit that I'm backing out of our deal?" Rita asked, scandalized. "And have to live with his gloating for the rest of our lives? I don't think so, Lieutenant."

Olivia did have to laugh at that, and Rita glowered at her. “Alright, so you refuse to get married, and you obviously don't want to marry Rafael, which is why you think it'd be easier to find someone who would want to marry Rafael.”

“Exactly.”

Olivia shook her head and took a sip of wine. “As far as plans go, this isn't exactly the most foolproof,” she pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily.

“No, but it's all I've got,” Rita said with pursed lips before she sighed and looked pleadingly at Olivia, her tone turning wheedling, and Olivia had to wonder how many times she'd pulled this routine before. And what the results normally were. “Come on, there has to be _someone_ you can think of who could tempt Rafael. Someone with a head injury, perhaps, who wouldn't know any better?"

Rolling her eyes, Olivia shrugged and picked up her glass to take a sip before pausing, her expression turning contemplative. "You know what?" she said. "I might actually have someone in mind."

Rita raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Do share.”

“Det. Carisi.”

Rita made a face. “Pass,” she said dismissively. “Rafael doesn't find puppy dog charm appealing.”

“Hey, Carisi's grown a lot and no longer looks at Barba for approval after everything he says," Olivia said with a chuckle before shrugging. “Besides, you and I both know how Rafael loves to have his ego stroked, and let's just say Carisi's never short on willingness to do so.”

“Rafael’s vanity is renowned,” Rita said slowly, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But is there anything more there? Because hero worship isn't exactly what great relationships are made of.”

Olivia thought of three years’ worth of stolen glances when neither thought anyone else was looking, of late nights spent well past the time either needed to be in the office, of Carisi’s eagerness to shadow Barba, to prove himself, and how Barba’s snarky comments to Carisi had softened into something almost sweet. “Yes,” she said finally. “I do believe there is something more there. Though neither, I suspect, is willing to admit it.”

“That I can work with,” Rita said slowly. “Getting Rafael to admit what he doesn't want to is an old specialty of mine.” Her smile sharpened into a smirk. “How much more help are you willing to give me?”

“The most I can do is promise that I can get my detective when and where you need him,” Olivia said after only a moment’s hesitation. “The rest of the plan is up to you.”

“Excellent,” Rita said, before hesitating. “Det. Carisi, though? Do you know how Rafael feels about Staten Island? I feel like this is doomed before it even begins.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Det. Carisi is your best option,” she said before draining her wine and adding, “And at the moment, your only option.”

Rita sighed but shrugged. "Fair point," she allowed, a small smile crossing her face. "If this works, I'll have to buy you a drink."

"If this works, I'll let you," Olivia said, standing. "Have a good night, Counselor. Keep me posted on when and where you need me to send Carisi."

She could feel Rita's eyes on her as she left but she didn't turn back, instead pulling out her phone. She had work to do.

* * *

 

Rita’s heels echoed with a determined clack as she strode down the hallway towards Rafael’s office. Carmen looked up as she approached, a relieved look flashing across her face. “He’s inside and Det. Carisi is on his way,” she reported, standing.

“Good,” Rita said. “Olivia delivered as promised.”

“Lieutenant Benson is very reliable,” Carmen said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking my lunch break and want nothing to do with what’s about to happen.”

Rita slid a fifty dollar bill across her desk to her. “Treat yourself on me,” she advised. “And if you take a little longer than an hour, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Carmen smiled and pocketed the bill before grabbing her purse and leaving. Rita glanced at her watch, wondering vaguely how long it would take for Carisi to get to Barba’s office. She didn’t have to wonder for long as she looked up to see Detective Carisi approaching, file in hand, his gait becoming cautious as he approached and saw that she was not Carmen. “You’re not Carmen,” he said, and Rita smiled sharply at him.

“Observant as always, Detective. And here I thought I was underestimating the skill of New York’s finest.”

Carisi didn’t smile. “Are you, uh, are you waiting on Barba, Ms. Calhoun?”

Rita’s smile widened. “Oh, Detective, aren’t we at the point where you can call me Rita?” When Carisi just stared at her, baffled, Rita smirked. “Evidently not. In any case, no, actually, I was waiting for you.”

“For me?” Carisi said, surprised and, if she was reading his tone right, more than a little suspicious.

That was wise of him.

“Oh, yes,” Rita said. “See, I have it on good authority that you harbor certain feelings for Rafael.”

Carisi blushed so quickly and so deeply that Rita was almost embarrassed on his behalf. Almost. “I — feelings?” Carisi repeated weakly, his face roughly the color of a tomato. “I, uh, I don’t have any idea—”

“Any idea what I mean?” Rita said brightly. “I’m quite sure you do. But that’s not the point. The point is, this is a conversation that really you and Barba should be having. And I’m here to make sure that it happens.”

Carisi’s eyes darted from side to side as if desperately casting about for an excuse to get him out of this. “I’d, uh, I’d love nothing more,” he muttered, in a tone that suggested the exact opposite, “but I, uh, I really gotta get back to the precinct, and, um—”

Rita smirked at him. “Nice try, but I cleared this with Lieutenant Benson, and you’re scheduled to spend the next hour with Barba. Preferably talking, but I can’t _force_ you to do that.” She paused, and Carisi just shook his head, looking with a panicked expression at Barba’s door, and Rita’s expression softened slightly. “Detective, how long have you been in love with Rafael?”

For a brief moment, Carisi looked like he would try a categorical denial once again, but then he seemed to deflate, just slightly. “Uh...awhile,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Listen, I’ve known Rafael for over 25 years now,” Rita said patiently, with just a hint of condescension. “He’s an idiot.” Carisi scowled, clearly offended on Rafael’s behalf, and Rita rolled her eyes before amending, “He’s the least observant person of all time, at least when it comes to this sort of thing. If you want something to actually happen between the two of you, you’re going to have to spell it out for him.”

Carisi gave her a look that was equal parts hopeful and furtive and opened his mouth to respond when Barba yanked his office door open, glaring out at them. “Rita?” he asked, his glare shifting into confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Funny you should ask,” Rita said, grabbing Carisi by the arm and dragging him towards Barba’s door. “I believe the two of you have some things to discuss. In the meantime, Rafael, I will deal with your calls. Just don’t try to leave before you two discuss what you need to.”

“What we need to?” Barba repeated, baffled, while Carisi gave Rita a pleading look, as if she would save him.

She wouldn’t.

“That’s right,” Rita said cheerfully, shepherding Carisi and Barba inside Barba’s office. “I’ve cleared both your schedules, so I don’t expect to see you for an hour. And in fact—” She closed the door on a very confused Barba and very panicked Carisi before pulling the key she had gotten from unnamed sources (Carmen) from her pocket. “—I won’t see you for an hour.”

She locked the door and sat down at Carmen’s desk, already ignoring Barba’s raised voice from inside his office. The phone on Carmen’s desk rang and she picked it up. “Rafael Barba’s office,” she said, smirking. “No, Mr. Barba is not available to talk right now. Can I take a message for him?”

She jotted something down on a post-it note before pausing. “A deal for your client?” she repeated, her smirk widening when she heard what sounded like Barba throwing something at his office door. “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

 

True to her word, almost exactly an hour later, right after Carmen had reappeared, Rita unlocked Barba’s office door, half-expecting Carisi to burst out and flee the scene.

He didn’t.

In fact, neither of them emerged and Rita frowned before knocking on the door. “You can come out now,” she called, taking an expectant step back.

The door remained stubbornly closed.

Rita was almost ready to give up and call it a day when the door finally opened, revealing a particularly disheveled detective, hastily tucking his shirt back into his pants, his hair sticking up three different ways, his tie missing entirely. Behind him, with a languid strut that Rita recognized far too well from their days at Harvard together, Rafael was trying to hide his grin, seemingly not noticing that his vest was buttoned incorrectly or that the tie around his neck was not the one he’d been wearing before. Carisi kept his eyes averted as he mumbled something incoherent about seeing Barba that night before disappearing, and Rita couldn’t help but grin. “Did you and Det. Carisi have a good discussion?” she asked innocently.

Rafael’s self-satisfied smirk faded and he gave her a look. “Don’t even start with me,” he said. “I haven’t forgiven you for locking me in my own office for an hour.”

“Well, the good news is, while you were busy doing — whatever it is you were doing, I was working.” Rita held up a stack of notes. “I’ve got three arraignments scheduled for you tomorrow, two plea deals in the works because honestly, Rafael, you’re not going to get better than what they’re offering, and Buchanan called no less than four times, but don’t worry, I told him in no uncertain terms to go fuck himself every time.”

Rafael stared at her. “You — what?” he gaped.

“Also I called Det. Carisi’s mother and you should know that his ring size is size 10. For, you know, future reference.” She leaned in to kiss Barba’s cheek. “Oh, and you’re welcome.”

She was halfway down the hallway before Rafael recovered enough to croak after her, “Wait, you think I should be _thanking_ you?”

Rita didn’t dignify it with a response, instead sending a simple text to Olivia: _Mission accomplished._

A moment later, Olivia texted back: _I believe you owe me a drink._

_I believe I do_ , Rita sent back. _Tonight, Forlini’s?_

_I’ll be there at 8._

Rita grinned and slipped her phone in her briefcase before glancing at her watch, surprised at the time. She’d accomplished so much already that she could probably just call it a day if she were so inclined.

Her smile sharpened.

But the day was still young.


End file.
